


It's Beginning to Feel a Lot Like Christmas

by LittleSixx



Series: Dramione - Twelve Days of Ficmas [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Dates, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dinner, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Muggle/Wizard Relations, POV Hermione Granger, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 03:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16846303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSixx/pseuds/LittleSixx
Summary: Draco surprises Hermione with a homemade meal for their second date.





	It's Beginning to Feel a Lot Like Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tearsofemeralds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearsofemeralds/gifts), [loverofironbull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loverofironbull/gifts), [Guiniqua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guiniqua/gifts), [rareandrandom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rareandrandom/gifts).



> This is the fourth work in my Dramione - Twelve Days of Ficmas series. Each fic can be read as a standalone but they are part of the same overarching narrative. I gifted this to some readers of my Dramione works, with a special shoutout to TearsOfEmeralds who read not one, not two, but FOURTEEN of my fics in one day. By far the most interesting kudos email I've ever received. ♥
> 
> Rated "T" for coarse language. The prompt for this fic was "Scrooge or Santa Claus."

Hermione liked surprises. Small surprises, like finding a loose Galleon on the street or when snow began to fall just as she left work. Little things, not Draco Malfoy showing up unannounced at her house on Sunday evening with the promise of dinner.

He stood there on her welcome mat with snowflakes melting in his hair. Draco was bundled up in a long trench coat with a standing collar that highlighted his cheekbones. Hermione realized she was staring but couldn’t manage to look away.

“Are you planning to let me in?” Draco asked.

“I, uh … Yes?” Hermione asked. Draco blinked and Hermione realized that perhaps it wasn’t best to phrase that as a question. She opened the door and said, “Yes, come in.”

“Kitchen?” Draco asked as he sidled past her into the foyer.

“Just there,” Hermione pointed. She looked down at her socks which were made to look like penguins, at her oldest (but comfiest) jeans, and immediately made for her bedroom. “Just drop your coat anywhere, I’ll be right back! Five minutes!”

“Take your time,” Draco shouted back.

Hermione had no idea what to wear. She threw open her closet doors and nothing leapt out at her. Was there protocol for when your potential boyfriend shows up unexpectedly for a date? She rifled through her jumpers and Hermione’s eyes lit up when she saw an olive-green sleeve. She pulled it out and smiled because the off-the-shoulder neckline was just enticing enough for a date without looking like she had given it too much thought. Hermione pulled on some jeans and black socks. She glanced in the mirror but Draco had already seen her and, well, why bother putting on any more of a show? So she tucked some of her hair behind her ears and sped back to the kitchen.

Draco had already begun pulling pots and pans from the cupboards. He stretched up to reach something in a cabinet and Hermione glanced down at the sliver of skin momentarily visible between his undershirt and jeans.

“Apologies, I just put my coat on a chair over there,” Draco pointed without looking. He opened her refrigerator and grabbed some milk. He closed it and turned to look at her, smiling.

“There was no need to change your clothes on my account,” he insisted. “But you look nice.”

Hermione blushed and thanked him. She put his coat in the hall closet before returning to see him fiddling with the stove.

“Are you a decent cook?” she asked.

“I suppose you will be the judge of that,” Draco replied. “Though, I have been told on more than one occasion that I exceed expectations.”

“I won’t set my expectations at outstanding, then,” Hermione teased. Draco laughed.

“Cooking really is quite simple. I am sure you understand since those biscuits you sent me were heavenly. I am no Blaise, of course, he can outdo anyone in a kitchen, but the basics of it are rather easy to grasp. It is just like following directions in Potions, except instead of Draught of Dreamless Sleep I am making sausages.”

“Sausages?” Hermione said. She nodded her approval. “Well, then, ten points to Malfoy.”

“More like fifty once you taste it,” he quipped. Hermione laughed and sat on a barstool as Draco began putting food into pans. “So, tell me Granger, how did you get so good at gift-giving?”

“That is a bit of a story,” Hermione replied.

“We have a half hour before this is ready so enlighten me.”

“It all began with Santa,” Hermione said.

“Santa?” Draco asked. Hermione nodded and he repeated, “Santa Claus?”

“Yup,” Hermione said, popping her lips on the ‘p.’ “This is going to sound awful, so promise you won’t laugh at me?”

“I cannot make promises I will not keep,” Draco said, “but I will give it an honest effort.”

That placated Hermione so she admitted, “I stopped believing in Santa when I was four. Most Muggle children grow out of it between the ages of six and nine, but I never believed in magic when I was little.”

Hermione waited for a joke that never came. Draco didn’t even pause his washing of the potatoes. He looked over at her expecting something more devastating.

“That’s all?” he asked.

“Well, no—”

“Do most Muggle children believe in magic?” Draco asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “Yes, they do. Once we get older we learn about science and math, learning about the world around us as it is. School never teaches you to look at the world and see what it could be. What could be out there just beyond what you believe you see. I sort of took the opposite route, never quite understanding magic.”

“You … Hermione Granger?” Draco asked, bumfuzzled. The water in the sink kept running as he stared at her. “You had trouble understanding magic?!”

“Well I was four!” Hermione insisted. “I told my parents I knew Santa wasn’t real and they came up with an alternate story. The tale of Santa is not real, but the spirit is. My parents told me that anyone can be a Santa. The Christmas season is about giving things to people and making them feel warm, making them feel loved. I was meant to give gifts to people who seemed like they were in need of some love.”

“Is that why you sent me gifts?” Draco asked.

“You started it,” Hermione petulantly insisted. She tried to ignore the implication that she sent him gifts out of love because that was just wrong. Wasn’t it? “You sent me a gift and I could not let it go unanswered.”

“Well, I am grateful,” Draco replied. “But please, tell me more about Santa Granger.”

Hermione laughed.

“I started giving anonymous gifts to students in my class. Sometimes to neighbors, but every Christmas I found someone who needed something and gave it to them. That was me as Santa and I became rather good at it. It is perfectly logical, identifying someone’s needs and fulfilling it.”

Then it was Draco’s turn to laugh. He poked at the green beans with a wooden spoon.

“Only you could take something highly emotional and make it logical.”

“Sorry, what?” Hermione asked, more than a little insulted.

“Gifting is not meant to be a logical process. It is not simply identifying a need and meeting it. You determine who needs help and how you can assist, not with your head but with your heart. You give something because it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Are you lecturing me on right versus wrong? Hermione asked. “Because that is more than a little ironic.”

Draco put the spoon on the counter and balled his hand into a fist. He looked toward the ceiling and pressed his lips together, physically restraining himself from making whatever snide remark was on the tip of his tongue. And then he laughed.

“Merlin, I love this.”

Confused, Hermione asked, “What?”

“This,” Draco said. “Being around you is strangely normal. Most everyone speaks to me like they hate me, with insults and a disrespectful tone, you know. Yet you, the one person who has more cause to hate me than anyone, you don’t do that.”

“Fairly certain I just did,” Hermione said.

“Sure, you insult me to my face, but there is no malice in it, is there?” Draco asked. “I enjoy that. I like that you do not feel the need to be nice to me, but you also want to be nice to me.”

“Of course I want to be nice to you, we’re on a date!” Hermione insisted. Draco shook his head.

“No, even when we were just two people with cocoa you were nice to me.”

Hermione shrugged and admitted, “You aren’t as shitty as you used to be.”

“But twice as handsome, I’m sure,” Draco teased. Hermione didn’t respond, just busied herself trying to untangle some curls because yes, maybe he did look handsome in that stupid pale blue turtleneck. Perhaps his jeans clung to his bum in a very enticing fashion, but there was no need for him to know that.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Draco balancing four different foods on top of or in the stove. He did not appear to be concentrating very hard, so Hermione presumed this was a typical lazy Sunday evening for him.

“Tell me then,” Draco finally said, “when did you begin to understand magic?”

“After I got my Hogwarts letter,” Hermione answered. “Once there were textbooks to read, everything became clear. Before, I could feel something was different. I could make things move without touching them and when I got angry things would explode. Logically, I knew there was no explanation for that until my Hogwarts letter. My birthday is so early on in the schoolyear I had practically a whole year to study before attending Hogwarts and I just loved it. I understood so much more about the world than I did before.”

“Hmm …” Draco muttered into the sausage. When he said nothing more, Hermione pressed him to continue.

“What is ‘hmm?’” she asked. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing important,” Draco said, dismissing the conversation with a lazy flick of his hand.

“It is important to me,” Hermione replied. A corner of Draco’s mouth ticked up in an almost-smile.

“I was just wondering, did we wizards do that?” he asked. “You said Muggle children lose their belief in magic as they get older. People like me are conditioned to hate Muggles from the time we are old enough to understand we have magic and they do not. Everyone loses something, so is the Statute of Secrecy doing more harm than good?”

Hermione thought about that for awhile, tapping her fingers on the countertop.

“I see it both ways,” she admitted. “Part of me thinks separation is inherently bad. We keep entire parts of the world separate from one another, so how much could we have learned if we worked together? But then, magic will completely upend Muggle society. What is to stop people committing crimes then claiming they were under the influence of an Imperius Curse?”

“Logic ruins everything, doesn’t it?” Draco asked. He began plating their food and, admittedly, it smelled very good. “I must admit, my mind was on a different course.”

Hermione uncorked the bottle of wine Draco brought and poured some into two glasses.

“What are your thoughts then?” she asked.

“I hardly think they are of any consequence,” Draco said. He brought their plates around the counter and into the dining area. Hermione sat on a chair with one leg tucked underneath her and Draco took the place across from her.

“I just told you it’s important to me,” she insisted.

“Well, it is not about logic,” Draco said. “I just thought, if the goal is to give Muggle children their world back, is it really what we would be doing? Is it better for them to be ignorant or know that magic exists as something they can never have? How awful would it be to see magic and know you could never wield it?”

“That’s a fair point,” Hermione conceded. She took a bite of the sausage and said, “This is actually quite good!”

“What is with the tone of surprise, Granger?” Draco teased.

“I apologize for doubting you,” Hermione said.

“Apology accepted.”

“Now, about your perspective …” Hermione said between mouthfuls of green beans. “I think Muggles have their own sort of magic.”

“How so?” Draco said, sipping his wine. “Their photos do not even move.”

“Some do, actually,” Hermione said with a laugh. “They’re called ‘movies.’”

“Well, then they are not very creative at naming things, now, are they?” Draco quipped.

“My point is that perhaps Muggles would be more appreciative of their skills if they knew what else the world had to offer. They have so many things Wizarding society has left out. Has a wizard ever landed on the moon?”

“Of course not!” Draco scoffed. “There is no way to get to the moon.”

“Ah, but there is,” Hermione teased, “and the Muggles have done it.”

Draco stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief.

“You are joking.” When Hermione shook her head he said, “That is fucking incredible.”

“My point!” Hermione said, brandishing her fork at him, a small potato stuck on the tines. “Muggles have done things you would never believe, just like how we can do things they want to believe in.”

“Do we agree that secrecy is a poor option, then?” Draco asked.

Hermione nodded and confirmed, “Yes, I think we do.”

“Well then, Santa Granger, what do you want for Christmas?” Draco asked. He leaned back in his chair and said, “No secrets.”

Hermione groaned and admitted, “Nothing, really. I have everything I need.”

“There must be something,” Draco insisted. “A book you have yet to read, or, well, that is about all I would know to get you.”

“I really enjoy giving,” Hermione said. “I have been doing it since I was so young, and it makes me feel really good. I suppose what I really want for Christmas is to give someone the best Christmas gift they’ve ever received.”

Draco paused then said, “So …  I should get you a book then?” Hermione laughed.

“Do you think we will still be doing this at Christmas?” Hermione asked. “It’s a full month away.”

“Doing what?” Draco asked, biting into the last of his potatoes.

“Dating,” Hermione replied. “Is this … Are we dating?”

“Yes,” Draco said without hesitation. He amended, “Unless you do not want to date me, in which case I am officially your best-looking friend.”

“I don’t know why I like you,” Hermione admitted, “but I do. Where would you take me for a third date?”

“Seeing as I chose date number two, it is only right you should take charge for date number three,” Draco replied.

“Then I would have you back here,” Hermione said. Draco sighed and Vanished the dishes so they reappeared, cleaned on top of the counter. He crossed his arms and leaned forward.

“Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

“No!” Hermione yelped. “Not at all! I just have an idea if you’re interested. If you’re not, that’s fine, I know my house is a bit smaller—”

“Hermione, I live in a manor, your house will always be smaller than mine,” Draco quipped. “But there is something I would like to see.”

“Name it.”

“The gift I gave you for testifying at my trial. Where is it?” he asked.

“My bedroom,” Hermione replied. Draco bit down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Oh, don’t be such a prat.”

“A piece of me in your bedroom, Granger? You would most certainly be on the naughty list,” he teased. Hermione threw her napkin at him.

“Do you want to see it or not?”

“Of course,” Draco said, standing up from his chair. “Lead the way.”

Hermione led him out of the dining area and up the stairs, her socked feet slapping against the wood floors. She opened the door to her room and motioned for him to follow. Admittedly, having Draco Malfoy in her bedroom was weird. Not because he looked out of place, but because he didn’t.

Hermione nodded to her bookshelf and pointed to the row second from the top. She needn’t have done so, since the book had its own row.

“I remember when it arrived,” Hermione admitted. “I didn’t understand what it was until I opened it and … Well, I may have fainted a bit.”

“A bit?” Draco chuckled. He took the glass box from the shelf and stared at the diary suspended within.

“I fainted,” Hermione said. “I mean, this is by far the most ridiculous present I have ever received. It is literally priceless!”

“We have a large library at the manor,” Draco said. “One day, I will invite you over so you can have a look.” Hermione didn’t admit how excited she was by the prospect. So excited it outweighed her fear of returning to Malfoy Manor. “My family has been collecting for a thousand years, and we have many priceless artifacts. This, however, I felt would be more appreciated by you. Queen Maeve’s diary deserves to be with someone who will treasure it.”

“She was a remarkable witch,” Hermione said, breathless.

“Muggle-born, and many would say she was the brightest witch of her age,” Draco replied. He looked at Hermione and said, “Which is why you were meant to have this.” He delicately replaced the glass box on the shelf and once again made his way downstairs. Good thing, since Hermione was of half a mind to shag him.

Draco grabbed his coat off the chair and pulled it on.

“You’re leaving already?” Hermione asked, disappointed.

“What would we do if I stayed?” Draco replied as he made his way toward the door. Hermione had no answer. Draco smiled and said, “I surprised you. You were not prepared for a date, so I will not intrude upon you any longer.”

“It wasn’t an intrusion,” Hermione said.

“A happy one,” Draco amended. “I would like to do this again, though. How is Wednesday evening?”

“At seven?” Hermione asked.

“It’s a date,” Draco confirmed. He leaned down to kiss Hermione on the cheek. He lingered for a moment before saying, “Be seeing you, Granger.” Hermione really thought Draco was about to kiss her, and she was surprised by how much she wanted him to. Even more surprised by how disappointed she was that he didn’t.

“Oh … Okay?” Hermione said. “Bye, then.” She shut the door behind Draco, confused. Things had gone fairly well, so she just stared at the door for a moment, not sure what else to do. Then the door opened and Draco was standing there in the foyer like he had barely made it down her steps before running back up.

Draco hesitantly placed his hands on Hermione’s shoulders. He looked down, Hermione nodded, and he kissed her. Hermione’s entire chest seemed to leap forward in excitement and her eyes fluttered shut. It was slow and tentative as Draco moved one of his hands up to Hermione’s neck, his thumb lightly brushing against her cheek. It ended far too quickly when Draco pulled back and smiled softly.

“Wednesday,” he promised. Draco left again, shutting the door behind him. Hermione lightly pressed her fingers against her lips then locked the door.

_Now it feels like Christmas._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and criticism are always welcome!


End file.
